Internal Light
by The Genius Mage
Summary: Light Ratatosk!EmilxMarta. In a bid to prove to Emil's other half that she DOES need him, Marta decides to take Emil to Meltokio's Coliseum for a much needed conversation between the two.


_~*_Internal Light_*~_

_Somewhere, deep down, there was a light that never went out..._

~*X*~_  
_

**There** was really nothing she could do.

Marta toyed with the velvety hem of her current robe, the magical material soft but durable against her fingers. She could sense the arcane forces that went into the knitting of the garment—the spells that helped to guard her against attack were still holding firm.

Meltokio. It was the capital of Tethe'alla, or at least the _former_ capital. The Royal Family resided here, looking down on the world from their thrones up high. It would have been enough, the mere thought alone, to make her blood boil. _If_ she was still in the Vanguard…which she wasn't.

Even she had to admit, it was gorgeous here. Besides the occasional earthquake, it seemed like an ideal place to live. The streets were cobblestoned, and the buildings were new and renovated. The people were dressed in extravagant attire that only the well-to-do could obtain in Sylvarant, and yet here it seemed to be some sort of required wear. The air was laced with the scents of bread and the faint, nauseating tinge of blood from the arena up on the elevated tiers of the city.

Yes, nothing in Sylvarant compared with this place.

It didn't mean she liked it.

She observed all of this from her position on a window-seat, back in the pricy inn. One leg was drawn up to her chest; the other idly nudged her satchel. The cat face decal on its front grinned smugly back at her.

A knock sounded on the door, a puzzling thing since it was neither locked nor shut. Marta turned her head and saw Sheena standing in the doorway, her brown eyes sympathetic, a hand still raised as if to tap the worn wood once more.

"Hey. You got a minute?"

Straightening and slinging her legs over the side of her seat, Marta nodded slowly. "Um…yeah, sure. Is something wrong?"

Sheena walked in slowly, arms folded across her chest, and the look that she had on her face made Marta respect the ninja even more. She had that grown-up, serious expression that she probably wore when addressing her village as its Chief.

"You're worried about Emil, aren't you?" Sheena asked; her tone gentle but firm.

Marta dropped her eyes to the sun-kissed floor, scuffing the carpet. "Of course I am," she murmured in a low voice.

"I'm not sure what's going on with him…but I do know one thing. Just be there for him, alright? It'll work out between the two of you."

She glanced up at her, slightly bewildered, but nodded nonetheless.

Reading her startled face, Sheena smiled and turned around to leave with a shrug. "You were probably going to do that anyway, but you looked a little lost to me."

"You're right," Marta spoke up unexpectedly. "Thank you."

"I'm here if you want to talk about anything." With that, Sheena closed the door, her footsteps inaudible as always.

A rush of affection for the older girl lit a warm flame in Marta's heart. It was nice to know that there would be someone willing to listen if she had no idea what to do about Emil….

Well. She had no idea now, but she'd try to puzzle it out herself first before she pushed the problem onto any of her friends. With a deep sigh, she went back to staring out the window and hoped that her dear friend would wake up soon.

~*X*~

Marta was busy penning the day's latest news into the journal she shared with Emil when she heard it.

The scream.

It was short but deep-throated, and the rustling of covers just across the hall betrayed the fact that Emil was awake. Instantly springing to her feet, she dashed through her open door and into his room so fast that her hair hadn't even settled down before she was staring into her friend's wide, frightened eyes.

"Emil! What's wrong?"

He had his hands in front of him, gripping the sheets of the bed as if they were a lifeline. He seemed to see right through her, past her, and she had to resist the urge to turn around since the strength of his gaze suggested that some_thing_ was standing right behind her.

It broke her heart to see him so clearly frazzled and shaken.

Emil blinked and met her eyes, and relief colored his voice as he nearly whispered, "Marta. It's you."

There was something about him. Something tense and foreign. This was the battle-ready Emil, she knew. The Emil that would strangle men and slaughter monsters to protect her. This would be—

"You're the other Emil, aren't you?" She stated hesitantly, but her concern didn't lessen. If the feral "Ratatosk Mode" Emil was trembling, something was wrong. Terribly wrong. She would've reached out to embrace him if she didn't think that he would reject her comfort, thinking it as pity.

Studying her curiously, Emil replied, "You can tell?" A scowl swiftly formed to cover the sadness on his face. "Oh, that's right. You didn't want me around." He pointedly stared forward again, but Marta in no way was convinced by his attempt at covering up his pain.

The _other_ Emil was hurting, because of her.

Desperate to say something before he ducked out of existence again, she went on hurriedly. "No!" Straining to keep her voice down, she continued in a calmer fashion. "It's just…ever since what happened, you've only showed yourself when we were in battle, so I was worried about you."

Emil still didn't look at her, but some of the unhappiness slid off, to be replaced with a more contemplative expression. "You were? Come to think of it, you did stand up for me."

She had. She wouldn't let the others badmouth Emil or…"Ratatosk Mode" Emil. Different though they were, they were her protectors. Both of them, even if they did it in their own ways.

"Huh?" She was more flummoxed about his question. Did he not think she had worried about him, had become concerned about where he had gone? Usually his arrival heralded more trouble, but…

He cut his eyes to the side, and in their green depths, she caught the wild flash of red fire she had come to recognize as Ratatosk's mark. His next words really shocked her. "Marta, do you need me?"

Marta smiled, clasping her hands behind her back and leaning in just a bit to get a closer look at him. "Of course! You're Emil, too."

"Ratatosk" Emil finally met her eyes. It was strange, to see him so insecure, but it made him oddly more approachable. More…_Emil_. "So you don't mind if I show up again?"

Why was he asking her permission? "Of _course_ not," she assured him.

He stared off into nothing again. "Thank you," he told her before closing his eyes.

She knew who would be there the next time they opened.

Emil's softer voice earned her attention as he sat there, seeming a bit disoriented. "Huh? Marta, what just happened?"

Her heart plummeted. Hadn't he…What was the matter? "What do you mean? We were talking."

This appeared to perplex him even more. "Really?"

She suppressed a sigh. "I'm sorry, it's nothing. My mistake."

He didn't seem convinced, but lacked the energy to pursue the topic. "Oh. Okay."

Marta knew that she needed to go talk to someone. Maybe she'd take Sheena up on her offer. "You should get some more rest," she suggested kindly.

"Yeah, I'll do that. Good night, Marta."

She nodded, fighting back a horde of questions that she had for him. "Good night." Heading for the door, she paused to look over her shoulder at him.

_Emil. What's happening to you?_

Shutting the door behind her, she decided to go track down a certain ninja.

~*X*~

Marta found Sheena just outside the inn, sitting on the rim of a water fountain. The ground trembled slightly, causing the spraying liquid to jitter a bit, but it wasn't long until it resumed its usual texture. The pale brown stone seemed dull and uninteresting compared to the bright finery that the ninja wore, and somehow even with its ridiculously vivid colors, she didn't seem to stand out.

"Sheena?" She asked, walking towards the older girl, somewhat hesitant.

Her slightly slanted brown eyes flicked up to hers, and then resumed their place on the rippling pool. "He's awake," she stated evenly.

"How did you know?"

Sheena smiled and met her gaze. "I heard him scream. Is he doing okay?"

Shaking her head, Marta sighed. She felt as if a great pressure was building up in her chest, threatening to choke her. Suffocate her. "I don't know," she replied truthfully." She came to sit beside the ninja, trailing her fingers through the cool water. It felt pleasantly cold against her skin, which she found to be quite suddenly heated and hot. It wasn't _that_ warm in Meltokio…

Sheena watched the crowds for a while, not saying a word. Her hand came up to rest on her collarbone, and her expression became unreadable. Just when Marta was about to speak up, the Chief of Mizuho remarked, "At first, I wasn't sure what to think of you."

Marta tilted her head to the side. "Huh? What do you mean?"

She lowered her eyes. "Here I was thinking you were just another lovesick teenage girl, and of course you _are_." She laughed a little, and Marta bristled. "_But_, that's not all you are." Sheena studied her as if seeing her for the first time. "I've been around long enough to tell the difference between a crush and real love. You really do love Emil, don't you?"

The brief spark of anger vanished, and Marta fumbled with her hands, drawing them up to her chest after a second of indecision. "Of course I do," she murmured. "More than anything."

Nodding, not surprised, Sheena rubbed the back of her head. "I'll tell you what. We'll stay in town for a while, get some supplies, I don't know. I'll buy you some time to talk things over with Emil."

The offer was tempting, like a ripe apple just out of reach, but Marta couldn't ignore a deep twinge of guilt. "But what about the Centurions? Don't we have to get their Cores before Lloyd and the Vanguard?"

Sheena stood up, a small smirk playing around the edges of her lips. "Don't worry; I _really_ doubt anything will happen in just a day. Emil needs to take the time to rest, anyway, and I have something I need to look into. A day off won't cause any harm."

"Of course, you're right." She inclined her head. "Thank you, Sheena."

The ninja tossed a hand, waving it off carelessly. "Never a problem."

Marta clutched her hands behind her back, shuffling her feet anxiously. "I need to talk with Ratatosk Mode Emil."

Sheena, who had turned to leave, glanced over her shoulder. "Oh yeah?"

She nodded, still staring fixedly on a rather uninteresting chink in the street. "But…I don't know how. He won't show himself to me unless we're fighting, and what if Emil—"

"You're overanalyzing things," the Chief of Mizuho told her, a smile in her voice. "There's a Coliseum on the west side of town, the second tier I think. If you want to see Ratatosk Mode Emil, take him there. He'll have to show himself then, and maybe you can get a few words in between bouts."

Marta brightened—that was _definitely_ a plan! Gazing at the ninja with newfound respect, she exclaimed, "Wow, Sheena! You're _so_ wise!"

A faint blush touched her cheeks. "What? No. I'm just saying what you already knew to do." Sheena started to walk off, and she threw this out as a parting line: "Sometimes it helps to hear the instructions read aloud, you know?"

Marta waved after her, wondering where she was going, before frowning down at her gloved hands. A Coliseum battle…she could imagine Ratatosk Mode Emil—_I'll call him Ratatosk for short_—finding the bloody bouts to be great fun. They'd have to take two of their monsters though…

That would be later, after Emil was feeling better. That left her with so much time! What would she do until then?

She momentarily considered going after Sheena, but the ninja probably wanted to do things alone. Wandering around town, when the Vanguard knew she was here, would be impractical and dangerous. Richter could show up at any moment, and without Emil, she didn't stand a ghost of a chance.

Still…she wasn't ready to be cooped up in the hotel just yet.

Getting to her feet, Marta absently ran her fingers over Ratatosk's Core, embedded deep in her forehead in the shape of arching flames. Maybe something to read? Was there a book store around here?

There had to be. Meltokio was simply too large otherwise.

But…it was dangerous to go alone.

"Tenebrae? Are you here?" Marta asked aloud, seeking the familiar presence of the Centurion of Darkness.

She didn't have to linger long. After about two seconds of waiting, a plume of black smoke spiraled out and the feline-esque Centurion emerged, standing with his amber eyes trained on hers. "I'm here, Lady Marta. Is something the matter?"

She shook her head. "No. I just wanted to go to a book store. Would you mind coming with me?"

His ears flicked. "Feeling cautious of the Vanguard, are we?"

"I kind of have to, don't I?" Marta replied after a second of deciding whether or not to get offended at his mocking tone. Tenebrae was always mocking anyway.

With that, she turned and melded into the crowds of Meltokio, idly wondering where a bookshop was and whether or not there would even be anything halfway decent to read when she got there.

~*X*~

"You're up late," Regal observed quietly.

Marta glanced up from the book she had been reading, somewhat guiltily. "I'm sorry."

"Can't sleep?"

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Not with Emil the way he is."

The bright glow of the Inn's fireplace cast flickering shadows dancing across the walls. Earlier on, Tenebrae had commented on the "magnificence" of the "silent dancing specters", but Marta had quickly shot _that_ notion down, arguing that it was the light creating such a splendid display, not the darkness.

Following that, the Centurion had retreated to a chair to sulk.

The room they were in was deserted; even the night clerk had left. Tenebrae was dozing on the couch across from her, and Marta couldn't bring herself to sleep, to close her eyes and leave the world behind. The tense knot in her stomach made such a notion impossible. It left her with a tight, nervous energy that made her constantly toy with the strands of her hair or with the edges of her page.

Regal looked at her soberly. "Sheena told me he woke up earlier."

Nodding, she folded the corner of a page and shut her book softly. "He's been sleeping peacefully since then. But…"

"But…?" prompted Regal gently, kneeling so that he was at her eye level.

"He didn't use to be like this. I don't know what's wrong with him." She confided wretchedly. "And the other Emil…" At his curious stare, she clarified, "The _Ratatosk_ Emil…I want to talk with him, also."

Stroking his chin, the Tethe'allan noble made an affirmative sound. "Yes, I know. Sheena told me, and I agree. Take Emil to the Coliseum if he's up to it; try to talk with him there. If you can."

Marta decided they were both right. She stifled a huge yawn behind her hand, causing Regal to smile.

"Try to get some rest," he said with his usual kindness.

"Okay. Thanks for coming to talk with me." Standing, she bid her friend farewell and headed up the stairs.

_I'm so lucky, to have friends like Regal and Sheena. They're so supportive and caring, I feel like I don't deserve it…_

Pausing outside the room Emil shared with Regal, she peeked inside through the crack in the door. He had his back to her, but she could tell he was well. His breathing was calm and slow.

_Emil…_

The last thing she thought before she fell asleep in the chamber she shared with Sheena was muffled with weariness even in her own mind. But the words warmed her heart.

How had she fallen so hard for him? She couldn't count all the ways…

The next day, she ended up sleeping a little longer than she had initially meant. But that was fine. As Marta did her hair and strapped on her pack, she found a note from Sheena on the ninja's bed.

_Marta—_

_Regal and I went to take care of a few things. Go put your plan into action, we won't be back until evening. Tenebrae knows where we've gone in case of an emergency._

_—Sheena_

Shoving the letter inside her bag, she checked to make certain that her spinner was secured in its usual spot before she knocked softly on the door to Emil's room, just across the hall.

The door swung open with a slight creak, and Emil was revealed to be standing there, already dressed. He didn't seem as out of it as before, and his green gaze was clear. "Marta? Good morning." He looked down both ends of the corridor. "Where's Regal, and Sheena?"

Ignoring the clamor of her heart—what was she nervous for, anyway?—she said casually, "They've gone to take care of a few things. So I thought we'd kill some time by going to the Coliseum here in town."

Emil gawked at her with a horrified expression, as if she had suggested that they drive a sword through their guts. "The Coliseum?"

Marta smiled sweetly, clasping her hands behind her back and looking at the floor. "Well, I thought it'd be fun. We can't leave Meltokio without trying it out, can we?"

Emil's face and body language read _hell yeah we can_. However, he gave her his customarily meek grin, inclining his head in an abrupt nod. "Sure, I guess…"

Squealing in delight, she clapped and punched the air in triumph. "Let's go, Emil!"

"Right." Still appearing doubtful, he followed her regardless, plunging down the stairs after her and sprinting out into the hot Tethe'allan day. Meltokio seemed even busier than yesterday, and the roads were bustling with activity. Every once in a while, the ground trembled, startling some travelers and causing more than one to trip or drop something.

Marta frowned, keeping a tight hold on Emil's hand so they'd not lose one another in the crowd. The earthquakes must be because of Solum. The sooner they obtained his Core, the better for everyone here.

"Slow down," Emil told her halfway jokingly, breaking into an impromptu jog every now and then to keep pace with her. "Are you really _this_ excited about the Coliseum?"

In truth? No, of course not. The idea of bashing in monster heads for money—and to appease the evident bloodlust in the Tethe'allans—was revolting. She was sure that Tenebrae wouldn't approve of this needless slaughtering of monsters. Still, if it meant she could get a few words in edgewise with Ratatosk, she'd deal with a tournament or two.

They at last arrived at the stadium, which was a massive construct of worn white stone dotted periodically with gaping rectangular holes for windows. A red carpet led up towards the entrance, and armed guards in royal finery stood on either side, stiff and threatening as steel spikes. Men and women of all appearances were gathered around in tight groups, discussing the possible outcomes of the battles. Medical workers, either on break or waiting for a bout to be over to tend to the wounded, chatted about the worst scrapes they had treated so far.

Marta led Emil straight into the Coliseum, and here she let him go a bit regretfully. There was no excuse now for her to use just to hold his hand, no matter how nice it felt…

She tore herself with difficulty out of one of her romantic daydreams, concentrating on the task before her. She found an empty space in the lobby next to a Katz worker, and she kept a firm grip on her spinner. Light glinted off of its sharp edges, brilliant as lightning.

"What do you think? Want to do a solo match, or a party battle?" It was a meaningless question, because no matter what he said, she was going to insist on his doing a party battle first.

Emil thought about it for all of one heartbeat. "We'll do a party battle, since you seemed so intent on coming here."

If he had been the suspicious sort, she would have guessed that he had an inkling about her plan to talk with Ratatosk. But he wasn't, simple as that.

"Okay, let's go!" Marta sprang forward and swiftly pushed past the hesitating "warriors" that were still pondering whether or not they should brave the Coliseum. She signed them up for the easiest battle, at least that's what the paper promised.

The pair of them was led out into the arena after a fight was concluded, and Marta suppressed a grimace at the disgusting scent of sweat and blood that lined the ring. Spectators screamed and howled for violence like banshees, more monstrous than the monsters.

As they waited for the arena to be cleaned up—Marta pointedly tried not to look at a decapitated dragon forepaw—she watched Emil out of the corners of her eyes.

The change was subtle, but she saw it as soon as it occurred. His stance shifted, became cockier despite the fact that he was slouching. The lines of his face hardened, and his green eyes blazed hellfire. He drew his sword, eliciting a furious roar of delight from the crowd.

Marta gripped her spinner tightly, and then she sidled closer to her friend. Their monsters materialized from seemingly nowhere—they always did that, she assumed that they had been summoned—one a Treant, the other a Fenrir. Their heavy panting and expectant gaze reminded her that they were about to commit (probably) unnecessary violence.

"Emil?"

He turned his head to meet her eyes. "Yeah?"

That rougher tone confirmed it; it was Ratatosk Mode Emil alright. "Will you…will you tell me what's bothering you?"

"What do you mean, what's bothering me?"

"When you said I didn't want you around…was that it? Because that's not true."

It could have been her imagination, but she swore his normally fierce gaze softened. "So, you really want me here, huh?"

"Of course." And she gave him her brightest, most sincere smile. "Please, will you stay long enough for us to talk after this?"

They heard the high screech of the metal gate opening as the announcer launched into a loud monologue regarding their current situation. Emil stole a peek at the dark tunnel beyond the gate before nodding at her. "…If that's what you want."

Relieved, she grinned and waited for the inevitable.

Emerging from the shadows came the bulbous body of a tadpole monster, its blue hide slick with moisture. It hopped towards them, flanked by three more, and amongst the amphibious fiends lurked a larger, fully evolved frog.

At the announcer's command, Emil lunged forward with a snarl that rivaled the Fenrir's in terms of sheer wildness. Marta hung back to cast a critical eye on the situation, gauging whether or not this battle required a healer or a melee fighter.

The Ice Element wolf and the Earth Element tree seemed to be taking things well, and after a second of delay, she jumped into the fray beside Emil and twirled, spinning like a ballerina and shredding the skin off of the monsters. The arena floor was soon speckled with coiling strands of amphibian flesh.

The battle was won without much difficulty, and as they struck a victory pose for the cheering masses that packed the stands like vividly colored sardines, Marta took every opportunity she could to speak with Ratatosk. His replies were always clipped and even occasionally sarcastic, but she wanted to try and establish one thing as clearly as possible.

She _did_ care about him, just like she did the other Emil.

During the final round, her foot slipped as she was chased backwards by a persistent monster onto the outer vestiges of the Coliseum. The sand here was looser, less packed, and she went down onto her back. All of the air left her body in a whoosh as the Black Wolf creature jumped onto her stomach and bared its vicious yellow fangs, saliva dripping beside her neck.

Marta was about to blast its smug little face off with a spell—or a spinner to the face, whichever—when suddenly the weight was gone off of her chest. Air flowed more freely into her lungs, and she sat up, eyes widening as she beheld Emil. Or Ratatosk, rather.

Ratatosk had grabbed the Black Wolf, last of its pack, by the scruff of its neck. He tossed it carelessly onto the ground, a malicious smile curling his lips, and scarlet burned in his typically green eyes as he stabbed it repeatedly in the throat, the stomach, the head…

Nearby, Fenrir and Treant exchanged cautious looks, slinking away from their true master and nearer to Marta.

"Emil, stop!" Marta ran over and grabbed his hand, catching his sword before it drove down onto the wolf again. It was either dead by now or else suffering horribly.

Ratatosk scowled and pulled free from her grip as the announcer's voice boomed over their heads, declaring them the winners. Accepting the monster grimoire and the various rewards they had obtained from the monsters they had defeated, Marta made sure that Emil was still in Ratatosk Mode before hauling him with her to the Coliseum's dark rooms. The rooms were large, shadowy crevices that were used primarily by combatants as a dressing area. It was wide and dimly lit, a perfect place to be alone.

Marta turned to a clearly flummoxed Ratatosk, exasperated and, strangely, indignant. She spread her arms, as if appealing for answers from up high. "How can you _be_ like that?"

"What?" He blew a deep sigh, his tone just as worn out and irritated as hers.

"That monster was already dead; did you have to keep on stabbing it?" She glared angrily at the dark Black Wolf blood that stained his blue tunic.

"If it's already dead, what does it matter?" He shrugged, throwing his hands up briefly. "It won't feel it."

"Exactly, so why would—"

Clenching his fist, Ratatosk took a step towards her. "It was trying to kill you! My job is to protect you, so why the hell are you getting so damn defensive over a _monster_?"

"You make _Pacts_ with monsters!" she spluttered, fuming. Noticing their echoing voices, she dropped hers. "Shouldn't you be more _compassionate_?"

"Only for the ones under my command."

"What about Fenrir? Your favorite monster? He was a Black Wolf once!" Marta couldn't believe how _easily_ he dismissed the lives of the monsters. She wasn't fond of killing them, but it was a necessary evil. What was wrong with _him_, to not care at _all_, at _any_ time…_ever_?

"So? He wasn't the _same_ Black Wolf." Ratatosk put a hand up to stall her storm of objections. "Look, Marta, I'll not needlessly stab wolves any more. Happy?"

She put one hand on her hip, still watching him mutinously. "Not just _wolves_, monsters in general. Promise?"

Ratatosk looked like he wanted to call her a few choice swear words, but all he said was, "Promise."

Satisfied, she smiled. He huffed and turned to go, walking down the corridor.

It occurred to her then, that with conversations like this, it must seem like she didn't like him very much. Horrified at the prospect that he might be resentful towards her, Marta dashed after him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind.

He grunted in surprise but she was undeterred. "Emil, I'm sorry! It must seem like I _really_ hate you or something but it's not like that at all!" The words tumbled out of their own accord. "I just don't like unnecessary violence, so to see you stabbing that wolf—"

Her frantic babbling came to an abrupt halt as Ratatosk put one of his hands over hers. "It's all right," he said, staring straight ahead. "I know what you mean."

Relieved that he didn't seem as angry as she had feared, Marta exhaled slowly. "Good. I'm sorry," she repeated.

"Got the message the first time." His fingers intertwined with hers—and _Martel_, it felt _so_ nice—but then, inexplicably, he pulled himself free. Still without looking at her, he remarked, "So are we going to do any more battles?"

Marta folded her arms behind her and leaned in inquisitively. Her face lit up with a pretty smile. "Emil, are you _blushing_?"

"N-No! I don't know what you're talking about!" Ratatosk growled crossly.

She giggled delicately, trying to smother it with her gloved hands. "You are! _Aww_!"

"Marta…" Ratatosk warned, but he only succeeded in getting her to laugh more.

Taking his arm despite his heated objections, she asked, "Do you want to do more arena battles?"

"Why not? Sheena and Regal probably aren't back yet anyway," he commented in his usual careless fashion.

"We'll do as many as you want."

"…Good."

Marta didn't really think of anything else besides the fact that Ratatosk Mode Emil was actually letting her hold his arm without being nervous. That is, not until they passed a burning torch set in a dragon-shaped sconce on the wall.

The fire…it was similar to this incarnation of Emil, she mused. Unbelievably strong, practically unstoppable one moment…warm, controlled, bright and caring the next.

Those flames, that warmth and strength, withdrew into her knight after every battle.

But the light it cast still shone out from Emil. Always.

* * *

_Author's Note: This one-shot was originally part of a three-shot collection, but I decided to post it separately since God knows my writing muse is bouncing everywhere. Better posted than not at all, right? Anyway I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are greatly appreciated!_


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